Nature
My River
Translated by James Clarence Mangan (1845) · From Poems, ed. John Mitchel (New York, 1859)
RIVER! my River in the young sun-shine!
O, clasp afresh in thine embrace
This longing, burning frame of mine,
And kiss my breast, and kiss my face!
So, — there! — Ha, ha! — already in thy arms!
I feel thy love — I shout — I shiver;
But thou outlaughest loud a flouting song, proud River,
And now again my bosom warms!
The droplets of the golden sunlight glide
Over and off me, sparkling, as I swim
Hither and thither down thy mellow tide,
Or loll amid its crypts with outstretched limb:
I fling abroad mine arms, and lo!
Thy wanton waves curl slily round me;
But ere their loose chains have well bound me
Again they burst away and let me go!
O sun-loved River! wherefore dost thou hum,
Hum, hum alway, thy strange, deep, mystic song
Unto the rocks and strands? — for they are dumb,
And answer nothing as thou flowest along.
Why singest so all hours of night and day?
Ah, River! my best River! thou, I guess, art seeking
Some land where souls have still the gift of speaking
With Nature in her own old wondrous way!
Lo! highest Heaven looms far below me here;
I see it in thy waters, as they roll,
So beautiful, so blue, so clear,
'Twould seem, O River mine, to be thy very soul!
Oh, could I hence dive down to such a sky,
Might I but bathe my spirit in that glory,
So far outshining all in ancient fairy-story,
I would indeed have joy to die!
What on cold Earth is deep as thou! Is aught?
Love is as deep, Love only is as deep:
Love lavisheth All, yet loseth, lacketh Nought;
Like thee, too, Love can neither pause nor sleep.
Roll on, thou loving river, thou! Lift up
Thy waves, those eyes bright with a riotous laughing!
Thou makest me immortal! I am quaffing
The wine of rapture from no earthly cup!
At last thou bearest me, with soothing tone,
Back to thy bank of rosy flowers:
Thanks, then, and fare thee well! — Enjoy thy bliss alone!
And through the year's melodious hours
Echo for ever from thy bosom broad
All glorious tales that sun and moon be telling;
And woo down to their soundless fountain-dwelling
The holy stars of GOD!
Cite this poem
MLA
Mörike, Eduard. “My River.” Translated by James Clarence Mangan. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/moerike/0/.
Chicago
Mörike, Eduard. “My River.” Translated by James Clarence Mangan. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/moerike/0/.